


Drowning

by FindMeIfYouDare



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, F/M, Light Angst, Reader-Insert, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:56:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindMeIfYouDare/pseuds/FindMeIfYouDare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I tried to drown my sorrows in alcohol but the bastards learned how to swim.”<br/>-     Frida Kahlo</p>
<p>Sometimes you feel like drowning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

“I tried to drown my sorrows in alcohol but the bastards learned how to swim.”  
\- Frida Kahlo

 

In the beginning the depression simmered beneath the surface a constant reminder but a bearable one. Yet, slowly each day the sorrow grew until you were consumed with it. That’s when you took up drinking. First it was just a glass or two to take the edge off. Then it was three or four so that you could feel the bubbliness. Finally reaching six or seven so you could feel the numbness you craved. The cool, calm of absolute detachment. There you lived until people started to take notice.

Shockingly Tony’s the first to notice your drinking problem. Sure he enjoys his boozes as much as the next guy but he knows how to hold his liquor and when to stop knocking them back, though Pepper would dispute that statement. At first he was all on board with you constantly sharing a drink with him but then he started to see how you never ceased drinking. And how emotionless you got the more you drank. You weren’t a happy drunk, or a sad one, you weren’t even an angry one. You were a emotionless drunk, an empty one. 

After he noticed he gathered the team and told them. Then they all began to observe you. Every drink you downed. Every solemn comment you made. Every stoic expression on you face. The smiles that used to light up your face were fakes as were the seldom laughs. The joy you once radiated was as cold as you now were. 

“What do we do?” asks Steve unsure of how best to help you. “Do we ban her from drinking?”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” snorts Clint. “Anger the unpredictable fire-wielding mutant. I’m sure she’ll react well to that.”

Bruce sighs, “We could talk to her. You know explain how worried we are and see if she’s willing to get help.”

“Or we lock her away until she’s forced to confront her problems.” Nat suggests.

“Guys come one locking her away? Banning her?” Tony rolls his eyes. “You guys have met (y/n), right?”  
~

Little did they know that they wouldn’t have to worry about you drinking anymore. You sat on the edge of a bridge looking down at the water rushing below. Somehow you reasoned that if you couldn’t drown your sorrows you might as well let them drown you. 

“What are you doing?” asks a voice behind you causing you to turn your head. You see a scruffy looking man with long, matted brown hair and piercing, blue eyes. He looks homeless but something about the way he stands and how he looks at you makes you think it’s more than that.

You smile and turn back to look down at that water, “Letting them win.”

“Who?” he asks and his voice comes from closer than before.

“My sorrow, my grief.” You reply tilting your head back. “Somehow they learned to swim so since I can’t drown them I’ll let them drown me.”

“Why?” This time his voice is right behind you.

“Because I’m not sure I’m worth saving anymore.”

“I think you are,” he whispers.

A laugh escapes your lips. “Not going to let me drown?”

“Not today,” is his reply as he wraps a metal arm around your waist and pulls you off the edge.

You did end up drowning but not in the way you thought. Instead of jumping into the water you turned around and introduced yourself to your savior. And after that moment you started to drown, not in the water, but in him.


End file.
